FESTIVAL OF WATER

    FESTIVAL OF WATER

                    By

          LULU DALIAH

Giant rain drops hit the cracked,

Red earth with majestic vibration.

The dust rises from the rain’s touch.

It’s addictive scent engulfing our senses with a sweet aroma.

The dry slowly is washed away,

the dust slowly drowned by the wet.

The mixture of the two elements leave a chocolate color,

making our intestines grumble with need for a treat.

We run around the compound as the rain coldly drizzles on our bodies.

we welcome this season.

The pangs from the sun inflicted by dry,

harsh season which had left our farmlands withered and the crops unproductive.

And the whirl of dust that had choked our noses as vehicles sped by,

was a thing of the past.

Bit by bit, the grass is getting greener.

Nature becomes more illuminated like fireflies dancing in the dark.

Mother and aunt take the maze and bury it in the field and in no time,

we see the seedlings shoot.

The pears are ripe and so are the tomatoes.

Vegetables and tubers in great abundance.

Telling stories over roasted peanuts have never been this fun,

as we warm our hands over the bright and charcoal in the kitchen.

We sing folktales and stories of long ago.

It is time to make merry, it is time for family.

The rain comes to renew and quench what the heat has wrought.

And we look to the heavens lifting our hands,

Appreciating the universe for bestowing us with the gift of water.

Sereewa and Aganer have come to visit me.

We skip across the lawn hunting crickets.

The heavens suddenly grumble.

Lightening slashes across the skies as they quickly turn dark.

This is the best part about rain. We don’t shun it.

We embrace it with our arms wide open,

baring our teeth in laughter as it trickles on our heads and down to our spine.

Then the serious showers commence as we sing ,

dance and bathe around,

Skipping and pleading on the rains not to stop.

Begging on it to let us play just a little more.

The heavens do hear our pleas and send more than rain and other surprises.

Hail falls in bounty.

We hear it falling on the rooftops like tiny pebbles.

We pick them from the earth and place it on our tongues savoring as it melts delightfully.

We pick more, competing on who picked the most.

We never get satiated.

This is only the start of our adventures as the festival of water is begun.

We celebrate with utmost intensity.